


Football Dreams

by Selenay



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Football
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-06-15
Updated: 2001-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenay/pseuds/Selenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a really, really short mushy thing. It has football, and was inspired by a football match. After all, I need to dream too :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Football Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm aware that Wycombe didn't make it to the FA Cup Finals, but this is fanfic which is the definition of 'anything can happen'.

Buffy rolled over and sighed. Again. It was just after midnight but no matter what she did, she just could not sleep. Her mind would not stop racing, but every time she tried to hold onto a thought it just floated away. She rolled over again, punched her pillow, flung the duvet away and then rolled up in it again. Still nothing. She lay perfectly still, concentrating on relaxing every muscle in her body and then trying to make her mind blank, but to no avail. She was wide-awake and there was nothing else she could do.

Eventually she gave in and sat up. For a few minutes she simply sat there, rubbing her eyes and running her hands through her hair, and then she heard a noise from downstairs. It was quiet, the kind of sound that someone trying not to make a noise might make, but it was just loud enough for her ears to catch it. Buffy tried to resist but her curiosity was engaged so she picked up a robe and slipped out of the room.

There was a light in the lounge so Buffy followed it in and stood in the doorway for a moment. Giles sat on the sofa with a mug of tea in his hand. The television was on but the sound was turned down low and it seemed to be showing one of the late-night sports channels. Not what she expected her normally serious Watcher to be doing.

"Whatcha watching, Watcher-man?" Buffy asked "No pun intended."

Giles jumped, almost spilling his tea, and turned to her with a guilty expression. "Nothing."

She looked significantly at the television and raised an eyebrow.

"Not very convincing, I suppose," he said slowly.

She stared at him, letting her eyes tell him what she thought of his extremely inept lying.

"It's . . . uh . . . the final of the FA Cup today," he admitted.

"The what?"

"FA Cup."

"Ok, that made sense of the non variety."

He grinned at her, and Buffy suspected that there was just the tiniest bit of excitement in his eyes. "It's the biggest competition in the English football calendar."

"Ah," Buffy said, for lack of anything else to say.

Giles sighed. "Heathen. In England, this is one of the biggest sporting days in the year. Shops are deserted, there's barely any traffic and shop-workers all over the country smuggle radios into their work to keep up with the score."

Buffy looked at the televisions screen, which was now showing a grey haired man talking to a couple of other men, and frowned. "People stop everything for this?"

For a moment Giles paused, trying to think of something her could say to make her understand. "Buffy, when it's the Superbowl what happens?"

"It's . . ." Realisation dawned. "Somehow I can't imagine stuffy Brits getting like that."

"Don't model me as the average Englishman."

"Well, duh. You're special . . . I mean, you're totally non-average."

He blushed. "Thank you."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Can't sleep?"

She shook her head. "Too much going on in my head. Kind of stops the sleep getting in."

Giles smiled gently and patted the sofa next to him. Buffy needed no more encouragement and curled up in the corner, wrapping the robe tightly around her.

"So, what's going on?" she asked, gesturing to the television.

"It's the pre-match chat. Predictions, form, that sort of thing."

"Uh-huh." Buffy watched for a moment. "Who's playing?"

Giles chuckled. "It's Arsenal against Wycombe Wanderers."

The blonde Slayer looked puzzled so Giles elaborated.

"Arsenal is a Premier league team, the favourite to win. Wycombe is a second division team. It's a miracle they've got this far."

"Who are you supporting?"

Buffy watched Giles' face light up and she knew that she had finally found something that he was passionate about. Well, aside from books and killing demons.  _Ugh, that didn't come out right. He's not so much passionate as . . . who am I kidding? He's a Watcher. Watcher's and demon killing are like magnets and . . . other magnets._

"Wycombe," Giles answered, turning his attention back to the television. "They may not be the favourites but they've made it this far and . . ."

"You're a romantic at heart, huh?" Buffy asked. "I knew somewhere in that tweedy body there was the heart of a mush-ball."

Giles blushed. "There is not."

"Is too."

"Buffy, this is childish."

"So I'm . . . ooh! They kicked the ball!"

Giles' attention was immediately riveted to the television. Buffy watched for a few minutes but was eventually forced to speak.

"Uh, Giles, could you explain something to me?"

"Of course. What did you want to know? Although, if it's about offside I doubt anyone can help you."

"Well . . . uh . . ."

"Buffy, just tell me what you don't understand."

"How about the entire game?"

He was silent for a moment before beginning to laugh.

"It's not that funny."

He continued laughing.

"Well, it's not. How am I meant to know about soccer? I grew up with proper football. These guys can't even pick the ball up!"

Giles managed to calm himself enough to answer. "There are a lot of people who would argue that this is proper football and your version is just rugby for babies." He held up a hand to stop her outburst. "We'll agree to disagree. Now, the men in the blue shirts are the Wycombe players and the other team is Arsenal. All right so far? The Wycombe player who just kicked the ball . . ."

Giles continued explaining the game, marvelling at the speed Buffy picked it up at, and enjoying it more than he had enjoyed any match since arriving in America. Watching it on was simply watching a game; this was having fun. By the end of the match they were both on the edge of the sofa and when the final whistle blew he caught her up in a hug and grinned at her surprised, and then delighted, expression.

***

**Six months later . . .**

_Something definitely started that night,_  Buffy mused as she finished brushing her hair. "Giles, what does a person wear to a football match?"

She felt him approach from behind and twirled, ducking into a curtsey as she finished her fashion model act. It was early spring, which in England seemed to translate to rainy, damp, cold and occasionally foggy with the odd bout of rainy sunshine. In fact, it was pretty much the way she had imagined England.

Therefore her wardrobe was not the minimalist one she would normally have worn in Sunnydale. She had thick jeans (tight, but thick), warm ankle boots and a large sweater. Her long hair was tied back with a blue ribbon and she had warm gloves ready put on as soon as they stepped out of the hotel. Her blue Wycombe scarf was draped over a chair next to the cute bobble hat Giles had given her at Christmas. It had padded out the box he had used to give her the tickets for today.

"You look fine, love," he said eventually, "but I think there's something missing."

"Oh?"

He disappeared into their bathroom and Buffy fiddled nervously with her brush. The past few months had been tough and wonderful all at once so this trip, the getting away from everything trip, was just what they had both needed.  _Although tricking him into a double room wasn't easy. You'd think after everything that would be the least of his fears! But oh, no, he almost bolted when he found out what I booked. And then he called the hotel and tried to change it. Good thing I told them that might happen and they refused. My bashful Watcher._  Buffy's lips unconsciously curved into a grin.  _Wouldn't want him any other way though._

Giles returned from the bathroom and Buffy noted with interest that he had a neatly wrapped package in his hand. His clothing was similar to hers, ideal for watching a football match in February, but he was wearing what looked like a Wycombe shirt over his sweater.

"Ooh, is that a present?" Buffy asked, grinning.

He held out the parcel. "I hope it's all right."

"It'll be fine, whatever it is. It's from you."

She grinned at the blush the flooded his face again and giggled inside.  _Uh huh, he's definitely best this way._

Eagerly she tore open the package, a flurry of paper scraps floating away, and held up the gift. "It's perfect."

"You're sure?"

Rolling her eyes at his uncertain tone she moved closer, stood on tiptoes and pulled his head down for a kiss.

"Completely," she murmured when she pulled back.

She released him and stepped back. The shirt in her hand was divided into light and dark blue quarters and when she examined the back it proudly displayed the name 'Summers' along with the number 7. She ran her hands over the white letters before pulling it on over her sweater.

"You had it made for me?" It was more of a question than a statement. "Thank you. I'll never forget this."

"The shirt?"

She shook her head. "No. You. This trip. How much it means to me. Did you know this is the happiest I can ever remember being?"

"No. But the look on your face makes me the happiest I can ever remember being."

"And you deny being a mush-ball."

He scowled at her mock-fiercely. "I am nothing of the kind."

"Uh huh." Buffy pulled on her hat and draped her scarf around her neck. "Ready to go cheer like a mad man?"

Giles grinned. "It's only the fifth round."

"Yeah, but from fifth rounds FA Cup dreams are made. We might even win this time."

His eyes went dreamy and Buffy knew he was imagining the FA Cup draped with Wycombe's blue ribbons. "Come on, Watcher-mine, or we'll never make it. Last one to the car has to buy the fish and chips on the way home."

They sprinted for the door.


End file.
